


Can Do

by knockoutqueenoftheunderworld



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Heaven, M/M, Supernatural ending, as usual, dean sacrificing himself for sam, how i want it to end, it's actually pretty happy, just my fantasy, which is weird of me to say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 06:17:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8317045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knockoutqueenoftheunderworld/pseuds/knockoutqueenoftheunderworld
Summary: Dean sacrifices himself for Sam. Again. This time he succeeds. Cas accompanies him to his heaven. Back on earth, Sam finds comfort in Gabriel.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is very bad; I apologize. I wrote it two years ago and only just decided to post it today because it's been sitting in my drafts gathering dust.  
> So, somehow Dean letting himself be killed protects Sam 5ever or something. Roll with it

Dean & Castiel

* * *

 

“You ready?” Dean asks finally, looking at the angel.

“…Almost.” At the word, Cas abruptly lurches forward and holds Dean, arms tight around his neck. Just as Dean is about to return the hug, Cas pulls back. His fingers curl in the hair at the nape of Dean’s neck, and his limbs feel instantly lighter. The guy's eyes are boring into his, keeping eye contact. Something in Dean's gut whines painfully and silently, long and slow. Cas’ blue eyes seem to be an ocean, stretching through millennia, in times Dean can never begin to imagine. And the guy looks positively  _ thirsty_. What's he searching for in Dean's face? Dean's fingers twitch involuntarily. And why is it getting difficult to breathe? The temperature rises, the tension builds, Dean feels as though he might spontaneously combust-

Cas steps away and takes his never-ending gaze with him, and his face is long and tired like the last wisps of a glorious sunset. Dean remembers how to inhale, makes himself exhale. He looks at Cas’ face and a warm feeling blossoms in his chest, feeling like home.

“I’m ready.” Cas reaches out his hand to find Dean’s, and for once, Dean just lets things happen. He allows Cas’ calm to wash over him, to fight back the rising panic. The determination to do what he’s meant to—protect Sammy—solidifies deep in his bones and his fear is gone. They take one step, then another, and their feet fall into synchronization, like soldiers marching. The steady beat seems almost serene, on his way to his certain execution. Here, with Cas, in his final moments, to die for his brother… Maybe he gets what Sammy said about being ready for death.

* * *

“Mom? Dad?” The door opens, and Dean’s parents are right there. The first thing his mother does is rush onto the porch to embrace him, hug him so tightly he can't find the strength to fight down the tears threatening to force their way out. Cas remains beside him, his quiet presence like a balm for all the stress of a day spent reliving his whole life.

“I missed you,” Dean whispers, and he feels rather than sees Mary smile.

“I missed you too.” She brushes some hair off of his forehead and presses a kiss to his brow. She’s crying, her eyes are red, but she’s smiling. Dean’s never seen anything more welcoming in his life—and death.

“Dean.” John reels him out of Mary’s grip and gives him a firm hug, hand straying to his shoulder as they separate. “Glad you made it. Hope you're planning on staying this time around.” Dean can’t help the grin that nearly splits his face in two. There is a part of his chest that aches for his little brother, for all the hurt he caused Sam, but now the kid can live his life without Dean's acidic presence. The whisper of a thousand feathers shivering together in anticipation brings him back to the presence.

“Oh, Mom, Dad… This is Cas.” He turns to smile at the angel, who permits a small amount of emotion to creep into his face.

Cas speaks, and his voice trembles and quakes slightly. “Hello, John, Mary-”

“Thank you,” Mary says, her eyes shining. “For watching over our son.” John offers him a firm handshake, and Dean doesn't know how to feel. For so long his head had been a breeding ground for anger and hatred and resentment, all bitter emotions that provoked one another. He feels overwhelmed. He might need to sit down.

“Mom, I think-”

“Yes, yes, come in, come in, we have much to catch up on,” John says urgently. Dean takes a step into the house he should have grown up in, and then remembers his companion. He whirls and opens his mouth to talk to Cas, invite him in-

“Goodbye then, Dean,” Cas’ voice wobbles even more this time, little tremors that hide the shaking grace within.

“You’re—going?” Dean asks, at a loss. His family had only just seemed  _ almost _ whole with Cas there. The thought of being without him just seems… wrong.

“Yes, I do not wish to—intrude.” Cas lowers his eyes almost as if in shame. No doubt he is remembering every wrong he has ever done to Mary and John's son. Dean feels his throat close up, but he won't argue with Cas, not this time.

And then Mary’s clutching the angel’s arm. “You won't be. You love my son very much, and know him even better than I do.”

“You’re practically family,” John says, in a voice more kind than Dean’s heard from his father in years.

“You  _ are _ family.” When Dean says it his voice comes out in a croak. He clears his throat awkwardly and continues, “I need you here, with me. C’mon.”

Cas wavers so long that Dean’s afraid he might politely decline and take wing into the sunset, when Dean has his heart and soul hung out like clothes to dry. But the hesitancy disappears and he steps into the house, and Dean follows with Mary at his elbow, and John closes the door to the house behind them.

* * *

Sam & Gabriel

* * *

Sam was sitting in a position that he was all too familiar with.

The bunker, at the table, three bottles of whiskey lined up in front of him, tears on his face and an aching slash on his heart.

Dean was such a fucking asshole.

Who had tried to protect him—who had  _ succeeded _ in protecting him.

The note Dean had left him was further down the table, already dog-eared and discarded. It stated the usual: _move on, have a wife and a dog and a house and some mini-Sams, know that I love you._

Sam had heard it all before, but there was one new item on the list—

_ Don't try to bring me back. Or join me. God, Sammy, don't try to join me. _

Sam could call Cas, or pray to him, but he was beyond pissed at him right now.  _ It won't go wrong, Cas is coming with me. _

Sam threw back another glass, fighting the crippling despair.

The fluttering of wings sounded behind him, and Sam huffed out a sigh. “You son of a bitch, I don't want you here right now.”

Instead of Cas's smooth gravelly voice and a slightly lukewarm hand on his shoulder, a higher voice answered.

“That's harsh, kiddo.” Sam whirled around in his chair, nearly falling out of it.

“Gabriel? You're alive?”

“Ye of little faith,” the archangel replied, rolling his eyes. He pulled out the chair beside Sam and sat with him.

“…Why are you here?” Sam inquired, rubbing his eyes.

“Just checking up on you.”

“You hardly seen the type to care.”

“Funny thing, Sammich, after several millennia you learn to mask your feelings.” Gabriel promptly stole Sam's glass and took a drink. Sam let him. “You, however, are a curious specimen. You bring out the best in me.”

Sam snorted. “With the interactions we've had, you call those your best?”

“You don't know me, Sam.” Gabriel's expression turned dark, but quickly melted back into a smile, softer than before.

“I guess I don't.” Sam took back his glass and refilled it, taking a sip.

“However, since I am your only living friend, we are going to become intimately acquainted with each other.” Gabriel waggled his eyebrows, again stealing the fucking glass.

Realization dawned on Sam. “Cas put you up to this.”

“My little bro is protective of his friends, what can I say. I couldn't just say no. Dean-o agreed.” Sam flinched at his name. “You need someone to look after you, and who's a better protector than an archangel?”

“You could bring him back.” Sam licked dry lips; Gabriel's eyes followed the movement.

“He doesn't  _ want _ to come back.” Gabriel touched his hand gently. “And he's doing well. Cassie will visit you in a few days, give you an update.” Gabriel snapped his fingers and the alcohol disappeared. “If you want to overdose on anything, kiddo, it's gonna be ice cream, because I can't fucking stand the taste of whiskey. At least martinis have a flavor other than 'blegh,' jeez.”

Sam laughed, just a little bit. Then his heart broke all over again.

“Hey, it's okay,” Gabriel said softly. He scooted his chair over so he could put his arms around Sam. Sam didn't resist. Tears dropped down his face soundlessly. Gabriel laid Sam's head on his shoulder. “It’ll be fine, kiddo.”

“You're wrong,” Sam mumbled. “It's all my fault.”

“You Winchesters,” Gabriel sighed. “It's not your fault. Dean-o made his choice. He just wanted to protect you. And he did. He signed the contract with his death. No one will touch you ever again.” His arms tightened. “And if they do, I'll destroy them.”

“Why…would you do that?” Sam croaked.

“I told you, Sam, I care. Don't believe me, that's fine. I'm not going anywhere. You know Cassie would kick my ass if I were doing anything to hurt you. He's kind of your guardian angel. Or, he was. He passed the torch to me, and here I am.”

Sam didn't reply. He let himself find comfort in being held for the first time in a long time.

And Gabriel stroked his hair, and brought him ice cream, and kissed his tears away.

* * *

“Hello.”

“What the hell, Cas-!” Sam gasped, almost falling off the bed as Cas announced his presence from the corner of the room. He quickly got back under the sheets to hide his naked body, embarrassed.

“I see things are going well,” Cas said, eyeing Sam with relief. Gabriel was sitting next to him, leaned on a pillow against the headboard, lips still kiss-swollen and hair a mess. He was swimming in one of Sam's T-shirts. A tablet lay in his lap.

“You could say that, Cassie.” Gabriel didn't look up. He found Sam's hand in the sheets and snapped his fingers. The laptop disappeared and in his free hand was a lollipop. “If you mean that this big guy fucked me into the wall last night, yes.”

“Gabe…” Sam sighed. Gabriel squeezed his hand.

“I meant emotionally, Gabriel, but thank you for telling me.” Cas stood like a soldier at parade rest, but his voice was laced with sarcasm.

“How's Dean?” Sam asked. He was almost afraid to know the answer. It had been a week. Sam had hoped that Cas’ absence hadn't been a sign of problems.

“Dean is fine.” Cas clasped his hands together. “Content. At rest. He wants me to send you his love.”

“Thanks, Cas,” Sam replied, emotions swelling up inside his chest like a tornado. He took a deep breath.

Cas looked up to the ceiling like he heard something. Gabriel did too, and raised his eyebrows at Cas like he was impressed.

“Dean calls for me. And I am going to tell you, Sam– Dean and I are– we–” Cas cut himself off, smiling. “We're together.”

“That's great, Cas.” If this had been said a month ago, Sam would be over the moon ecstatic, shouting about how he totally called it. As it was, Sam did his best to not think about the fact that Cas was in a relationship with a dead person.

“Thank you.” Cas dipped his head. “Congratulations.” And he vanished with barely a shimmer in the air.

Sighing, Sam dropped back against the pillows. Gabriel finished off his sucker and the stick vanished with a small pop.

“Too weird?” Gabriel asked, cuddling up to Sam like a puppy and laying his head on his bare chest.

“A little.”

Gabriel let out a hot breath against Sam's skin. “Want me to distract you?”

“Just… lay with me?”

“Can do, kiddo. Can do.”


End file.
